Winter

The yellow sun
Well, it took the hand
Of a country boy
To a city in a far-off land

We made no mark
No shadow at all
On the ancient, holy streets
Where I learned to crawl

The broken and the bruised
The young and the used
The sure and confused
All here

Words will then land on me
Then abandon me
Mangle, untangle me
Leave me on the floor
Rhymes, they sprang in me
Summer sang in me
But summer sings in me no more

Now I'm twenty-five
And trying to stay alive
In a corner of the world
With no clear enemies to fight

It's hot as hell
We're like butter on toast
But there's no army in this world
That can fight a ghost

The broken and the bruised
The young and the used
The sure and confused
All here

Words will then land on me
Then abandon me
Leave me stranded
In guard of the door
Rhymes began in me
Summer sang in me
But summer sings in me no more

Listening to the cries
The strangers
The silence of the foreign grave
Listening to the thunder
The sky is strange
Stretched over everyone
Listening to the tales
The child sings
That goes for days and days
Listening to the calls
Shouts, frustration

At twenty-one
I was born a son
And on that day I knew
I could kill

To protect the ones
We put bullets in guns
Or anything it takes
To take a life until it's still